Loss

There are some people that I've always envisioned being here, in my life, on this earth. I lost one of them today. Not to sound trivial, but when the first President Bush spoke of "a thousand points of light," Joyce was a torch.

This was a woman whose mark on my life is probably far greater than even she could imagine. She was a fixture in my childhood. Just barely older than my parents, she and her husband were like an aunt and uncle but treated me more like a grandparent would--spoiling me and my friends each time when we were at their lovely and modest home. Joyce had a way of making you feel incredibly special. And it wasn't in a materialistic sense. She was so warm and inviting in her demeanor, you couldn't help but feel like one of the family. I recall many days and nights spent playing tennis at her house or swimming in their backyard, to come inside to the yummiest baked goods afterward. In my older years, she and her husband were enormously supportive of my endeavors, always supporting me as I went on missions trips and expressing tremendous joy when I reached a milestone such as a graduation.

Ironically, I feel much closer to Joyce and her husband than I do to their children. Lisa and Max aren't much older than I am, but I always loved hanging out with their mom. However, I feel a tremendous sense of sympathy and pain for them as they have just lost their beautiful, kind mother, and right before the holidays.

The worst part of this whole ordeal for me personally is never having had the chance to see her when she was ill or to say goodbye before she left us. I know that's terribly selfish of me, but I am pained beyond what I can express because I am so far away and never had that opportunity. I have no doubt that there will probably be well over several thousand people at her memorial. It hurts that I probably won't be one of them.

I know that Joyce fought valiantly and with such class. She's a model for enduring suffering. She was always optimistic and positive. I'm sure she hardly ever complained even behind closed doors. I just don't understand why God would take such a woman from us when this world is so desperately in need of Godly, loving, humble women. Yet I have to trust that He is sovereign and knows exactly what He is doing.

I honestly thought she'd pull through this, that she would beat the tumors and cancer that was so violently attacking her brain. I prayed for and believed for a miracle. And while that didn't happen in the way we all wanted, I am so happy that she is no longer suffering and that she is with the Savior she so adored. Those of us who await a reunion with her will always remember her passion for Jesus and how she so wonderfully bore His image. Now He has her all to himself.

Rest in Jesus, Joyce. Until that glorious day when we will see you again, we will miss you terribly.